


In The Middle

by Seeingredfics



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Bill gets thrown in at some point but only briefly, Cheating, Eventual Smut, M/M, Polyamory, Romance, Streddie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 07:09:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13071735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seeingredfics/pseuds/Seeingredfics
Summary: Richie Tozier liked Eddie Kaspbrak. Richie Tozier also liked Stanley Uris. And it just so happened that they liked him back, as well as each other.Too bad Stan has a girlfriend.





	1. One

“This is it, this is how I’m going to die. I can feel it, Rich. Right in my gut. I’m gonna die today.” Eddie said, his hands shaking as Richie clutched onto it, staring down at the needle as it was dipped into black ink.

“You’re being a teeny bit over dramatic there, Eds.” Richie smirked, watching in fascination as the tattoo artist, whose name was Elvia and who was literally covered head to toe in tattoos, including having one arm almost entirely black, leaned over towards Eddie’s right shoulder blade and once again wiped over the skin with a disinfected piece of tissue.

“Do you need a minute?” She asked, looking towards Richie more so than Eddie, seeing as Eddie was too busy hyperventilating to form another sentence. In front of him, Ben was crouched with his hands on Eddie’s knees and trying to calm him down.

“Nah, he’s fine. Just do it.” Richie said, waving her off, only to have Eddie squeak,

“I need a minute, I need a minute!” He panicked and Elvia moved the needle away as Eddie gulped in as much air as he could possibly fit into his tiny lungs. “Oh god, oh fuck! Why did you make me do this?!”

“I didn’t make you do anything!” Richie laughed and Eddie glared at him before glancing at Ben, who only sadly shook his head.

“It was your idea.” He said quietly and Eddie whined.

“Eddie, sweetie, it’s really not that bad!” A voice said from across the tattoo parlour and the three boys looked over to where Beverly and Mike were sat side by side, both getting their ankles done. They looked so relaxed compared to Eddie who was gripping the front of the chair he was on for dear life, pressing his bare chest into the cushion and biting onto his lip as if it were about to fall off. “Seriously, it’s just like a cat scratch!”

“I fucking hate cats.” Eddie bit back and Richie snorted.

“Eddie, I promise you it’s not too painful.” Mike said reassuringly, practically reclined on his seat like he was on a sun lounger at a resort.

Eddie scoffed. “Says you! You don’t have paper skin!”

“And neither do you.” Stan said from where he was standing in the middle of the room beside Bill, who was snap-chatting the entire ordeal. Stan’s arms were folded over his beige jumper and he glared at all of them. “How long is this going to take?”

“Until all of us get one, Staniel.” Richie grinned wickedly and Stan scoffed at him.

“If you honestly think I’m getting a tattoo-”

“Which I do, because you pinkie swore, and that’s an eternal promise.”

“-Then you’re insane, Richie.” Stan finished with a shake of his head. He then saw Bev give Bill’s phone camera a thumbs up out of the corner of his eye and he smirked a little.

“Come on! We have to get one each! That’s the whole point!” Richie exclaimed, letting go of Eddie’s hand, and putting his hands on his hips dramatically, throwing a pointed finger at his best friend. “You promised! Pinkie swear!”

“Pinkie swears are for children.” Stan said tiredly.

“You s-stuh-still did it though.” Bill said and he whined as Stan slapped his bicep. “Ow, asshole!”

“I had also consumed four glasses of red wine, I wasn’t exactly in the best state of mind.”

“But wine drunk Stan is the best Stan!” Bev cooed, batting her eyelashes at him.

“You are quite lovely when you’ve had a bottle of Red.” Ben smiled and Stan rolled his eyes, even though he still felt a feeling of warmth in his chest at their comments.

“Even so, this is ridiculous. You’re forcing Eddie to get a shoulder tattoo for heaven sake!” Stan said, pointing at Eddie’s shaking form.

“Need I remind you that this ENTIRE situation is because of Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie said and Eddie choked.

“I was wasted!”

“I think we’ve established that’s not the point.” Richie argued. “You, my dear Egg Head, were the one that wanted to get a tattoo. And then you said that we should get matching ones, so here we are, doing as you said.”

“Why did you even listen to me?!” Eddie hissed, gripping the chair so hard his knuckles turned white. “I had done shots! Never listen to Eddie after he’s done shots!”

“He has a p-puh-point.” Bill spoke up, turning his phone off and shoving it into the back pocket of his skinny jeans. “The last t-tuh-time we did that Richie ended up in a d-duh-ditch inside a truh-tractor tire.”

“I still have the bruise on my hip!” Richie said excitedly, and Ben had to swat his hands away as they started to yank down his jeans.

“Please don’t strip, this is a public area.” He begged and Richie shrugged.

“Suit yourself.”

“Eddie, just bite the bullet!” Bev encouraged as the tattoo artist wiped over her ink gently. “It looks so cool!”

“But…fuck, it’s gonna hurt so bad!” Eddie whined, stamping his feet slightly and hanging his head over the front of the chair. Everyone glanced at each other, wondering what to do.

Richie looked at them all individually before sighing and nudging Ben with his converse. “Hey, move over there, Handsome.”

“It’s Hanscom-”

“Just go to your lady!” Richie exclaimed and Ben raised his hands in defeat before walking backwards towards Bev, who eagerly took his hand and laced her dainty fingers with his larger, fumbling ones. Richie then turned back to Eddie and slowly crouched in front of him, propping his elbows onto Eddie’s knees and trying to look into his eyes. “Eds? Earth to Spaghetti Man?”

“What?” Eddie grumbled, sounding like a child throwing a tantrum. Richie smirked from ear to ear.

“Want me to hold your hand?” Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes, leaning away from Richie who started invading his personal bubble.

“Who knows where that thing has been.” 

“Other than inside your mother?” 

“Oh for god sake, Richard.” Stan tutted as Eddie gagged violently. Richie snorted and sat back on his heels, grinning at Stan over his shoulder.

“Oh don’t act like you don’t love my dirty talk.”

“I wish you hadn’t been born.”

“Kinky.”

“Will someone please just shut him up!” Eddie begged, staring at Ben and Bill wide pleading eyes. “He’s really not helping my nerves right now!” 

“Okay kids, you’re all done.” Bev’s tattoo artist said, wiping over the ink one last time. She then smiled at Ben and Bill. “You two next?”

“Oh thank g-guh-guh-god.” Bill whispered, moving away from Stan, Richie and Eddie and into the artists chair.

Eddie squeaked as Ben stood up, moving away from him. “Please don’t leave me with him.” Ben sighed, giving Eddie a sad look. 

“It’ll be over before you know it. I promise.” Ben said, before sitting in the chair Mike had been sat at. Both Bev and Mike were standing at the large, black mirror on the other side of the room, grinning at each other and their new tattoos. Bev then dropped into a crouch and took her phone out to take photos, Mike posing behind her, and Eddie smiled a little at the two of them. They didn’t seem in pain…

“Okay kid, you wanna try again?” Elvia said from behind him and Eddie swallowed loudly. 

“Is…is the shoulder really a good idea?” Eddie asked and he assumed Elvia had shrugged as there was a slight pause. 

“It might not be the best place for your first one, no.” Everyone glanced over at Bill and Ben as the machines started buzzing and the needles made contact with their skin. 

“Oh, okay. Hey, Eds!” Ben grinned. “It’s not bad at all! I can barely feel it!” He was getting his done on his ankle as well, as was Bill. Richie said he wanted his on his forearm, bigger than the others, whereas Eddie (drunkenly) said he wanted his across his right shoulder. Stan said he would rather shave his hair than get a tattoo.

“Oh god. Oh god.” Eddie breathed, looking away from Ben and at his shaking knees. “I can’t do this. I can’t.”

“Hey, come on now!” Richie said, tilting his chin up with his thumb and forefinger. Eddie blinked at him, and Richie started to feel bad for the guy, with tears in his eyes. “You’re tough! You can take a broken arm you can take a fuckin’ tiny ass needle!”

“Unfortunately, he has a point.” Stan said, walking over and grabbing in a chair, dragging it over and perching in it with a straightened back. “A broken arm is much worse than a tattoo.”

“Really?” Eddie said quietly and Stan nodded, his curls bouncing around his head.

“Absolutely. But, if you really don’t want to get one done, we won’t make you. You can get up and Richie can get his done instead.”

“No I-” Eddie paused, feeling both boys eyes on him. He gulped, his face going pink. “I want it.”

“Good on ya, Kaspbrak!” Richie beamed, slapping Eddie’s shoulder. 

“Ow! Dammit, Richie!” Eddie winced, rubbing at his shoulder. Eddie glanced over at Elvia who was watching the whole thing. “Do you think I could maybe get it on my ankle instead?” Elvia smiled at him kindly.

“Of course, hop on up!” She patted the bigger, thicker chair next to her, the one identical to Ben and Bill’s, and Eddie threw his shirt back on before clambering up onto it, lying back and licking his drying lips. Stan and Richie watched as Elvia rolled up Eddie’s cuffed jeans even further and began to shave the top of his ankle. He had barely any hair there anyway, but he let her do it none the less. 

She prepped his skin quickly before dipping the needle back into the black ink, and glanced at him one last time. “You sure you’re ready?” She asked, not wanting him to back out and panic again. Eddie bit his lip before glancing down at Stan and Richie.

“Could you guys…hold my hand?” He asked quietly, and Richie’s face nearly split apart from how much he was smiling.

“Come on, Stanny, our boy needs us!” Stan snorted but moved his chair over to Eddie’s left side, as Richie took the chair Eddie had been previously sat on, and placed it beside him, gripping Eddie’s hand tightly and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Stan hesitantly placed his over Richie’s and nodded at Eddie.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Eddie looked at Elvia. “Like a cat scratch, right?” Elvia shrugged.

“Sure.” And she flicked the machine on. The second the needle came into contact with Eddie’s skin, he whimpered and both Stan and Richie’s eyes snapped to his face. He was biting his lip, hard, and he had his eyes squeezed shut. It was hurting, maybe not enough for him to flinch or cry out, but he was feeling something. 

“Hey, you’re okay. You’re doing great.” Stan whispered, moving closer to Eddie’s ear. Richie nodded eagerly.

“Hell yeah, look at you! Getting a tattoo before me! That takes balls!” Eddie felt himself laugh a little.

“Shut up, Rich.” He said, but opened his eyes a little to look at him. And then at Stan. And then at both of them. The needle suddenly hit a sore spot as Elvia went over the ‘S’ and Eddie flinched, his hand gripping onto Richie’s tighter whilst his thumb pulled away and rubbed over Stan’s knuckles. Stan looked down, Eddie’s small thumb the only thing he could concentrate on. It felt nice, it was a sweet gesture. So Stan decided to lean forward and rest his over hand on Eddie’s left shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze. 

He felt his body grow warm as Eddie tilted his head slightly more towards it without thinking, staring down at the ink now staining his skin forever. Stan felt the curve in his lip and he looked away, looking at Richie instead. 

Richie, surprisingly, was already looking at him, and Stan frowned a little. Richie nodded his head at Stan’s hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

“S’cute.” He said quietly, so only Stan could hear him and then looked down at Eddie’s ankle. “It’s looking real good, Eds! She’s doing a top notch job, for our top notch boy!”

“How you feeling, Eddie?” Mike called from the other side of the room, breaking the moment the three were having. 

“O-okay.” Eddie said back, his voice a little higher pitched than normal. Richie patted Eddie’s knee with his free hand.

“You got this, it’s not like it’s getting amputated, is it?”

“If it get’s an infection, it’s getting amputated.” Eddie said firmly and Stan blew air from his nose in amusement.

“You’re so over dramatic.”

“I’m just thinking ahead!” Eddie defended himself, but the two smirked at each other as Elvia gently wiped over the ink she had done so far. 

“It looks sick, Eds.” Richie let out a long whistle. “Hey, when I get mine done, can you both hold my hand?” Stan and Eddie watched as he looked back at them, soft smiles on their faces. “Because honestly, the boner I’m getting from touching the both of you may distract me from the pain.”

Stan whacked him over the head.

* * * 

Richie’s house was quiet, and both Stan and Eddie instantly realised it was because his parents weren’t home. Wentworth Tozier, or ‘The Man Of The House’, as Richie begrudgingly called him one day, had been on a week long business trip that apparently needed to last another couple days, and Richie’s mother, well, she was probably at Derry’s local bar.

“She’ll be sucking face with some biker and come home tomorrow before lunch.” Richie shrugged as he chucked his keys into the glass bowl beside the front door, not noticing the uncomfortable glances made by his friends. 

They both hated how nonchalant Richie was about his parents neglect, they wanted him to get out of here, far away from his toxic childhood home, far away from Maggie’s drinking and Wentworth’s abuse, and live on his own. 

But Richie didn’t have the money like they did. He couldn’t leave, not yet. But he had promised them all, even Bev, Ben, Mike and Bill, that on his 20th birthday, he’d start looking for a place. And that had been that.

“Welcome, once again, to Casa De Tozier.” Richie grinned, throwing his coat onto the armchair that belonged to his father, and wandered into the kitchen without taking his shoes off. It made Stan crinkle his nose. Eddie followed him silently, every so often glancing down at his ankle and smiling. He really did like the tattoo, which came as a massive surprise to him more than anyone. He was expecting to hate it, to cry because it looked bad, but it was perfect. The perfect size, the perfect width, the perfect font. It was just…perfect.

“Admiring yourself again?” Richie teased and Eddie glared at him.

“Shut up and make sure you don’t hit your ankle on the table leg like you always do.” Eddie snapped, pointing at Richie’s bandaged up ankle. Richie waved his hand dismissively before reaching up to one of his many snack cupboards and rummaging around. Eddie hopped onto the counter and swung his legs, holding his left one in the hair and smiling down at it.

“I can’t believe I got a tattoo.” He said as Stan leaned up against the doorway, shoes neatly in the corner behind him. 

“It suits you.” He said and Eddie looked at him. “Really. It’s a good placement. Not too out of sight but not too obvious.”

“What he means is, your Mom won’t collapse when you go home.” Richie said, his mouth full of chips already. Eddie ignored him. 

“Kinda stings though.” He said, wincing as he rolled his ankle and felt the saran wrap rub against his aching skin. “It’ll hurt when I have to clean it.”

Stan shook his head. “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt for long.”

“How do you know?”

“I do my research.”

Richie whirled around, a bag of popcorn now in his hand, as he stared at Stan with wide eyes. “So you were planning on getting one!”

“I did it for everyone else’s benefit!” Stan scowled, disgusted at the sight of Richie chewing with his mouth open so carelessly. “And for god sake, close your mouth when you eat, you’re not a child.”

“He is a child. Just a very lanky, cursing, child.” Eddie piped up and Richie pointed a finger at him.

“I resent that. Now come on, let’s get a good ol’ look at this leg o’ yours!” Richie threw the popcorn onto the counter and wiped his hands on his jeans before crouching down so he was eye level with Eddie’s sock covered foot. Eddie stared as Richie gently cupped his ankle, cocked his head, and turned it over in his hands. “Looks good to me. But remember to use that baby rash cream shit the desk lady give you. That way it’ll stay hydrated when it heals.”

“Oh, right.” Eddie breathed. 

“Less gunk, ya know?” Richie looked up at him over his glasses and Eddie swallowed.

“Got it.” He breathed out. Richie then did something all three of them weren’t expecting. He leaned down and pressed the softest, chaste kiss onto Eddie’s ankle. Eddie barely felt it, but it made his stomach jolt and his mouth drop open. Stan watched in confusion from the door, wondering why his own stomach was turning in such a good way. 

Then Richie stood up, letting go of Eddie’s foot and grinning widely. “Now, who wants snacks and the box set of Scream?”

“Please don’t make me watch those again.” Stan groaned, pushing away from the doorway and walking over to Richie, stealing the popcorn bag and another one for good measure from the cabinet above his friend’s head. It didn’t go unnoticed by Stan how Richie’s breath hitched slightly as the taller of the two pressed against his chest, and Stan bit back the urge to smirk. 

“They aren’t that bad, once you get past the blood.” Eddie said, hopping down onto the floor, allowing his ankle some time to straighten up again. Richie flung his arms over Stan and dragged him towards the living room.

“Come on, Stanny Boy! Let’s snuggle!” Richie then looked over his shoulder at Eddie, who was staring at their backs. “Bring the chocolate and that fine ass over too, can’t forget about my favourite midget.” 

Eddie scowled, but did as he asked, ignoring the blush on his cheeks and trying his hardest not to glance at his butt in the hallway mirror as he passed by it. 

It took Richie about 45 minutes to pass out on the couch, nestled in between Stan and Eddie and wrapped up tightly in a fluffy blanket. The other two boys both rolled their eyes once they heard his soft snoring, knowing he’d be the first to fall asleep. Stan reached towards the remote and switched the TV off, knowing he and Eddie weren’t going to watch it without Richie. 

“I don’t know why he asks us to watch movies, he falls asleep before they even fucking finish.” 

“He likes to prove himself wrong sometimes. He just never actually does.” The two laughed, before Stan’s phone suddenly buzzed on the coffee table, making them both jump. Stan hesitated before picking it up, unlocking it and scanning over the text message.

\- Patty. -

‘Just wanted to say goodnight! I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow at the diner, right? Goodnight! xx’

“Is is Patricia?” Eddie asked quietly, seeing the way Stan’s brow was furrowing and his entire body slumped slightly. 

Stan and Patricia had been dating for nearly five months, and Eddie had seen how happy she was around him, all blonde hair, blue eyes and big beautiful smiles. She honestly was, apart from Beverly of course, one of the prettiest girls Eddie had ever seen. And he never took in a girl’s beauty. She was smart, flirty, caring, organised. She was perfect for Stan. So Eddie often wondered why Stan seemed deflated around her, quiet. He was never really himself when he saw them together, holding hands in the coffee shop or brushing against each other in line for the Aladdin. 

“Yeah. She’s saying goodnight.” Stan said tiredly, typing back a short reply. No kisses at the end, as always.

“She’s visiting her parents in a few days, right?” Eddie asked, curling into Richie’s body slightly for warmth. Stan sighed and put his phone down.

“Yeah. Gone for two whole weeks. It’ll be weird without her.”

“She’ll be back before you even have a chance to miss her.” Eddie said kindly, but Stan didn’t respond.

That is, if I even missed her in the first place, he thought to himself.

Eddie sighed, leaning against the back of the couch and rubbing his eyes. 

“Tired?” Stan asked, receiving a nod in response. “We should go upstairs.”

Eddie’s eyes flung open. 

“Uh, why?”

Stan frowned in confusion. “Because we’ll get cricks on our necks if we sleep on a couch? Especially with all three of us on it?”

Eddie laughed nervously, standing up and nodding. “Ah right, yeah, obviously. Duh!” Stan raised an eyebrow but decided not to comment on Eddie’s odd behaviour. 

“What are we gonna do about him?” Eddie asked, pointing at a still sleeping Richie, who was slowly but surely starting to curl up into Stan’s side. 

“We could leave him here.” Stan said. “Or, I have to carry him upstairs.” At that, Richie sleepily dragged his arms up so they were wrapped around Stan’s neck, and he smiled in his sleep. Eddie couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his face. 

“Option two it is.” He said and packed away the snacks as Stan reluctantly pulled Richie up into his arms, bridal style, the blanket falling back onto the couch in a heap. 

“Warm.” Richie moaned in his sleep, and Stan looked down at him. “Stanley…warm.”

“God, you never shut up, do you?” He whispered, but felt the corner of his lips tug up as Richie softly nuzzled his head into his chest. Eddie appeared from the kitchen and smiled at Stan before hurrying up the stairs to Richie’s room, opening the door for him as Stan carefully walked into the bedroom and placed Richie onto the middle of his king sized bed. “Come on, get under the covers.” Richie whined, and Eddie giggled as he closed the door. “Rich, I’m not doing it for you.”

“Go on, put some pj’s on, I’ll do it.” Eddie said and nudged Stan towards the chest of drawers. He did as he was told and looked inside the top drawer, filled to the brim with clothes that all of the losers kept in there, just in case. As Eddie dragged Richie’s lanky form under the bed covers, Stan pulled out a lacy red dress and shook his head as he chuckled to himself. Of course Richie would have one of Bev’s dresses. Of course. 

“Hey, throw me some sweats and a shirt, would you?” Eddie asked, panting once he got Richie under. He had managed to manoeuvre him out of jeans and folded them onto the chair at his desk, and Stan appreciated the action greatly. 

“Here. I think it’s Richie’s, but at least it’s clean.” Stan said, handing Eddie a pair of grey sweat pants and a large ACDC shirt. Eddie nodded in thanks and whipped his jumper off, tugging Richie’s shirt over his head and instantly feeling completely enveloped. Richie always bought oversized shirts and hoodies and sweaters, no one knew why, but Eddie never complained. They made him feel even warmer, on the inside and the outside.

“Let’s just hope his other shirts are clean.” Stan said begrudgingly as he tugged on his own pair of pyjama pants, navy blue plaid ones, before rummaging around. A few of Ben’s jeans, Mike’s yellow jumper, another dress, Bill’s jean shorts, Eddie’s overalls. Stan grunted and pushed the drawer shut. “Great. No more shirts.”

“Just go shirtless, it’s warm enough in here.” Eddie said as calmly as possible and Stan didn’t miss the way he bit his lip after he said it. Stan weighed out his options before sighing and shrugging.

“What the hell. It’s one night.” Stan put his neatly folded clothes on Richie’s desk and clambered onto the furthest side of the bed, right next to the wall, as Eddie pulled on his sweats. 

“Can you like, scoot him up? I don’t have much room.” Eddie said awkwardly and Stan gripped Richie’s hips to pull him closer so there was a perfect Eddie sized gap at the front of the bed. “Thanks.” Eddie grinned and eagerly hopped into bed, curling up with back to Richie. He then made a noise from within his throat and spun around, grabbing Richie’s glasses and carefully taking them away and folding them onto his night stand. 

Richie shuffled a bit, bumping back into Stan, before barely opening his eyes.

“Wha-”

“Ssh, sleepy time.” Eddie giggled and Richie lazily smiled back at him.

“Okay. Sleepy time.” He whispered and before Eddie could stop him, Richie wrapped an arm around his small waist and pressed his nose into his soft hair. Eddie bit his lip, for the hundreth time that day, and did his best not to smile too hard. 

“Alright, get some sleep, both of you.” Stan said, snuggling under the covers and closing his eyes.

“Night, Stan.” Eddie sighed. 

“Night, Eddie.”

“Night, Stan.” Richie mumbled and Stan sighed a little.

“Goodnight, Richie.”

“Night, Eds.”

“Goodnight, Rich.” Eddie said softly, almost letting his hand rest on top of his friends. 

“Nighty, night, Staniel.” Richie smirked.

“Richie, go to sleep.”

“I’m just saying goodnigh-”

“Sleep.” Stan said firmly.

“Okay, okay. I’m sleeping.” Silence drifted between the three of them, and Stan finally felt at ease. Then Richie twitched. “Night Stan.” Eddie burst into a fit of giggles.

“For fuck sake.”


	2. Two

“Eddie…Stan…Eddie…oh god…Stan…”

In his sleep, Eddie started to frown. Was he dreaming? He felt like he was slowly waking up, so no, he couldn’t have been, but why was he hearing a voice?

“Fuck…Stan…”

Eddie blinked, his eyes slowly adjusting to the light streaming in through Richie’s bedroom window and he yawned softly, licking his lips and quickly wiggling his body further under the covers for warmth. Then he heard a moan. Eddie’s eyes widened. His body went rigid as the realisation of who was behind him, and currently wrapped around him, dawned on him.

Eddie felt Richie’s arm sneak further around his waist, pulling him in closer, and Eddie bit his lip as he suddenly felt hips into him. All he could feel was something hard, and Eddie almost turned round to smack him. But he didn’t. He was stuck still, staring at Richie’s desk and wondering what the hell Richie was dreaming about.

“Eddie…” Richie’s breath hit the back of his neck and he shivered, letting out a little breath of air. He felt a nose nuzzle into his hair and Eddie started to feel something stir deep in his belly. Something he had only ever felt when he was alone…or when he saw Stan shirtless last week at the Quarry…or when Richie moaned whenever he stretched. Eddie rolled his eyes at his own thoughts.

Richie suddenly bucked his hips forward and a whimper came out out of his mouth, taking Eddie by surprise. He could lie and say he’d never imagine Richie in bed before, he really could, but he had, plenty of times, but he never imagined him to sound like that. Needy and desperate. Eddie smirked.

“Fuck me…please.” Richie whispered against his neck and Eddie desperately tried to ignore how uncomfortable his sweats were starting to feel, which was a lot. He decided that this was enough, he couldn’t let Richie get carried away, and started to shake his arm.

“Rich, wake up. Rich.” Eddie hissed, turning his head to look over at him. Richie’s hair was covering most of his face, and his mouth was open and pouting slightly, and Eddie felt heat rising to his cheeks. He looked adorable…

He shook his head and pinched Richie’s arm. “Wake up!”

Richie snorted himself awake and blinked wildly, then squinted and groaned. “Fuck me, Eds.” Eddie’s eyes widened, remembering the same words Richie had just moaned out. “It’s a bit early for violence, don’t ya think?”

“Just…get up.” Eddie huffed, flinging the covers from his body and hurrying into the bathroom across the hall, slamming the door shut and leaving Richie and Stan in bed alone. Richie shrugged, before turning onto his other side to look at Stan. He looked like an angel, blonde curls on the pillow and his face completely and utterly peaceful. Richie smirked.

“Stan?” He whispered, poking his cheek with his finger. “Stanny boy, up ya get!” Stan didn’t move, but his eyebrows twitched. “Don’t make me climb on top of you now, you know I will.” When there was still no movement, Richie beamed and hopped up onto his knees before throwing one of his skinny legs over Stan’s body, straddling his hips and pressing his hands to his chest. “Wake up, sleepyhead!” Richie belted out, and Stan flinched, his eyes flinging open.

“Richie?” He mumbled tiredly, rubbing at his eyes, and then he felt the weight on top of him. “What the…what the fuck are you doing?”

“It’s morning!” Richie smiled, bouncing himself a little. Stan stiffened underneath him, not liking the way his body was heating up, and if Richie had noticed he had decided to ignore it. Thank god. “Come on, don’t be a lazy ass! It’s such a beautiful day outside!”

“Get the fuck off of me!” Stan grunted, putting his hands on Richie’s hips to move him, but that only made Richie clamp his thighs around his hips in protest. “I’m serious, get off!”

“Not until you say the magic words!”

“Please-”

“NOPE.” Richie exclaimed and Stan winced at his shrill voice.

“Fuck sake. What are the magic words, then?”

“I’ll make you breakfast, Richie. Because I love you.” Richie smirked and Stan stared at him blankly.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Stan sighed dramatically, before resting his hands at the top of Richie’s thighs. “Fine. I’ll make you breakfast Richie.”

Richie raised an eyebrow down at him. “Aaaaand?”

Stan growled. “And I love you.”

“There you go! Now, that wasn’t so painful, was it?”

“Excruciating. Now please get off me, you’re heavy.” Stan shifted a little underneath him and felt something pressing into his stomach. His eyes widened and he looked down before yelping. “Are you hard right now?!”

“Huh?” Richie glanced down and then howled with laughter at Stan’s disgusted look. “Oh come on, I always get a stiff one in the morning!”

“Okay no, get the FUCK off of me, right now!” Stan shoved Richie off of him, only to have himself pulled on top of Richie’s body instead. “Let go of my arms, Richard.” Stan warned.

“Oh, commanding, I like it.” Richie winked and blew him a kiss, and Stan grimaced.

“You are the most fowl, perverted, filthy-”

“Oh yeah baby, keep goin’! Right there!” Richie fake moaned, as if he were a pornstar and Stan rolled his eyes before slapping Richie in the head. “OW, Stanley!”

“That’s what you get!” Stan spat and jumped from the bed, stepping away from it and standing with his arms folded over his bare chest. Richie leaned up on his side and shamelessly looked Stan up and down.

“Well ain’t you a sight for sor-”

“Open your mouth again and I’ll rip it off.” Stan seethed and Richie scoffed before flopping onto his back.

“Fine. Leave me. Have no fun.”

“Nothing about what just happened was fun.” Stan deadpanned.

“It could have been if you stayed in bed for longer.” Richie dramatically whispered and Stan groaned. “You might wanna leave though.”

“Why?”

“Because I do actually have a stiffy and to be perfectly honest I wanna knock one out.” Stan was speechless and Richie smiled at him. “But if you wanna stay then feel free!”

“Disgusting.” Stan spat and marched out of the room and down the stairs, his cheeks burning and his head spinning, trying his best to ignore Richie’s laughter echoing through the house.

There was only one Diner in Derry, and Stan had been going there since he was 10 years old.

He first went with Richie and his father, back when Wentworth Tozier actually tried to be a parent to his only son, and they had milkshakes and burgers together in the farthest booth at the back.

Wentworth had been on his phone the entire time, discussing some buisness proposition with one of his coworkers, but Richie quickly moved seats so he and Stan were sat next to each other, giggling and chatting together whilst they ate. They shared secrets that they would never share with anyone else that day; Richie told Stan he thought the new boy, Eddie, was really pretty, whereas Stan said he thought Eddie’s hair was really nice and that he was super smart.

Even almost 10 years later, both boys refused to talk about what they had said, but they both remembered it. They could never forget it.

Stan had gone to the diner a lot when he was 14, when Beverly first became apart of their group and he wanted to make her feel at home. Ben was too afraid to ask her out and Bill was too busy taking care of Georgie to ask her so Stan did, much to Beverly’s surprise. Not that she was complaining, not at all. In fact, she enjoyed Stan’s company a lot more than he originally thought. He was quiet and sometimes grumpy, but he was a good listener, and she was a very, very good talker. 

And so Stanley invited her to share a milkshake and some fries with him, in the farthest booth at the back.

It had been awkward at first, neither being alone with the other until that point, but Stan eventually listened to Bev talk about fashion and how she prefers her hair short now and that she’s failing her Science class.

And Beverly listened to Stan talk about birds, and why cats are better than dogs, and that one day he wants to move to New York because that way he can watch as many musicals on Broadway as he wanted.

And when he went there at 17, he was with Richie and Eddie. Eddie got a strawberry milkshake, Stan got vanilla and Richie got chocolate. They shared a mountain of cheesy fries, whilst Richie got two burgers on the side, and talked about school, about prom, about girls, in the farthest booth at the back.

Except, they didn’t really about girls, because that was the day Eddie came out to the two of them. He was proud to say he was gay, and he was proud to tell his two closest friends before anyone else, even before his own Mother. Richie had choked on his milkshake and at first Eddie was worried he was going to say something bad. But Richie was just shocked because he was going to come out to, but as bisexual, because girls are still super hot.

And then Stan flushed red, because he wasn’t coming out. He liked girls, he thought they were pretty, soft, they always smelt good. They had nice laughs and pretty lashes, they were just…pretty.

And that’s exactly what he thought when he walked into the same Diner at 20 years old, and spotted Patricia Blum sitting in the window seat of the farthest booth at the back. And he smiled.

Patty was honestly, apart from Beverly of course, the most beautiful girl Stanley had ever seen. She was tall, a lot taller than Eddie and almost as tall as Bill, with long legs and porcelain skin. Blonde, flowing hair that reached just past her shoulders, piercing blue eyes and dainty fingers. And her laugh, Stan hated to admit he could listen to her laugh forever, but he probably could, if he had forever to spare.

Patty beamed the second she saw her boyfriend walk towards her, and she shuffled out of her seat to greet him, lovingly pressing her lips to his and smiling.

“Morning.” She whispered and Stan nodded, letting a hand stroke at her hip.

“You ordered yet?” He asked as they sat down opposite each other, scotting up towards the window.

“I was waiting for you.” Patty said and Stan smiled, taking off his scarf and coat and folding them neatly at his side. “I did remember your order though.” She said with a perfectly waxed eyebrow. “Coffee; black, one sugar, and the cheese and tomato omelette with no mushrooms.”

“You’re good.” Stan smirked and looked over at a waitress to get her attention. Patty shrugged proudly.

“I pay attention when you talk, Stan. It’s my job.” Stan raised an eyebrow at her, and then turned to face the same waitress he had been served by since he was 16. 

“The usual, Stanley?” She asked, her deep Southern accent making Stan feel at home once again. 

“If you don’t mind. Patty?”

“A glass of orange juice and the pancakes with syrup please.” She said politely and the waitress, who’s nickname was Sweetie - given by Richie back when she used to carry lollipops wherever she went - nodded at the two before walking back to the bar, scribbling down their order in her little pocket book and tearing the page off for the Chef’s. 

Patricia then turned to her boyfriend. “So, what’s Stanley Uris been up to recently?”

“Not much, I suppose.” Stan said honestly, tracing one of his fingers on the table, drawing tiny circles and dots and squiggles, but leaving nothing behind. 

“Oh come on, we haven’t seen each other in a week or so!” Patty pouted, batting her ridiculously thick eyelashes at him. Stan cocked his head at her and she laughed. “Come on!”

“Okay, okay!” He chuckled, thanking Sweetie as she came back with their drinks before hurrying off to take more orders. “My parents have decided to go out of town for a while, wanted to go somewhere nice for their anniversary so, I’ll be alone for a little while.”

“You gonna be okay?” She asked, sipping her orange juice.

Stan snorted. “Obviously. I’ve wanted time to myself for the past 20 years.” Patty smiled. Stan had always been independent, even when he was a kid. He lived off of time to himself, whether it was bird watching or reading a book by the fire, even playing Zelda in the living room at 4 am - something he would never admit doing to anyone. Stanley Uris liked being alone, and now he was finally getting what he wanted.

“Well, aren’t you going to miss them?” Patty asked, setting her OJ down to the side and crossing her arms over the table. She was wearing a slightly low cut sweater, a pretty pastel peach, and Stan noticed her cleavage was on show. He felt nothing. 

“I suppose so.” He said, taking a long gulp of coffee. He licked his lips and sighed, putting the mug back onto the saucer. “They’re constantly around, you know with my Mother working from home now.”

“How’s that working out for her, by the way?” Patty asked. 

Stanley shrugged. “She likes it better than the tiny office she used to work in. Now she has her own space, her own things. She seems happier.”

A smile completely overtook his girlfriends face. “Good. Now, since you changed the subject to your parents, what’s been going on with you, specifically.” 

Stan looked at the table. “You noticed.”

“I notice a lot, Stan. Probably more than you realise.” Patty said teasingly. 

“The others got tattoos yesterday.” He said after a brief pause. “Well, I was supposed to get on as well, apparently. But that didn’t happen.” He scoffed, remembering the look of shame on Richie’s face as he turned down the tattoo artist as politely as he could. 

“All of you? What, even Eddie?” Patty beamed, not quite sure whether she could believe him or not.

Stan nodded, smiling fondly. “You’d never think he’d get one but…it was his drunken idea in the first place.”

“He’s a mystery, that one.” Patty shrugged, shaking her head. 

“Richie tried to convince me to get one too.” 

“I don’t doubt that. Was he at least a little persuasive?” Stan looked away just as Sweetie brought their food over.

“Yeah.” He mumbled whilst his girlfriend, his sweet, lovely, beautiful girlfriend, tucked into her food in delight. “Almost.”

As Stan sat there and ate his cheese and tomato omelette without mushrooms, listening to Patricia Blum talk about her coworkers horrific love life and the holiday she was about to go on with her parents, he wondered what his life would be like if he actually loved her like she loved him.

If he wasn’t pretending. 

The record shop had been quite today, and Richie had been leaning against the counter for the past 45 minutes trying to stifle his boredom by playing games on his phone. He still had Angry Birds, even though he knew no one played it anymore, and was way into the game by the time he heard the bell go from the front door. He looked up, his glasses slipping from his nose slightly, before seeing the familiar figures of Beverly, Ben and Eddie walking up to him.

And he grinned.

“Well ain’t you handsome fuckers a sight for sore eyes!” Richie exclaimed, chucking his phone onto the desk chair and hopping over the front counter. Eddie winced, wondering when Richie would slip and smash the case containing one of the first ever Nirvana and Black Sabbath records, before limping over. 

“I’ve missed your beautiful face.” Richie said dreamily, cupping Eddie’s cheeks, ignoring the smaller boy’s hands swatting him away. “Ever since this morning, I’ve been day dreaming about you.”

“You’re so fucking weird.” Eddie hissed, stumbling away and trying to hide his hot face behind Ben’s broad shoulders. 

“Afternoon to you too, Rich.” Bev winked, curtsying politely as Richie turned to her and bowed, grabbing her knuckles and pressing a gentle kiss to them.

“M’lady.” He drawled, then turned to her boyfriend. “M’sir.”

“Pretty sure that’s not the greeting.” Ben pointed out, but allowed Richie to kiss his knuckles as well.

“It is for you, Benny.” Richie said, leaning his arm against one of the shelves containing the ‘Alternative Indie’ records. “What brings you people to my humble abode?” 

Beverly hopped up onto the counter behind him and crossed her legs, nodding at Ben to start talking. “He told you first.” Ben shrugged and set his bag onto the floor. 

“Stan messaged me a little while ago.” Ben explained. “His parents are leaving tonight for some Anniversary thing-”

“They’re going away for a whole week!” Bev grinned. 

“Right, a whole week. So he suggested we have a movie night? We haven’t had one in so long, not since college started up again and everything, so why not?”

Richie raised his eyebrow, his curiosity clearly being peaked. “Interesting. Will there be booze?”

“Mike’s bringing some from work.” Eddie said, rolling the sleeves of his black and navy blue sweater up to his elbows; exposing his white dress shirt underneath. “Said he’s got plenty for all of us.”

“Sweet.” Richie nodded. “What are we watching?”

“Well-”

“That’s what we’re trying to decide.” Bev said, and Richie looked over his shoulder at her. “Bill and I said horror, Mike and Ben want comedies, and Eddie wants-”

“Anything that isn’t fucking scary.” Eddie deadpanned, making Richie chuckle and he reached out to ruffle his hair. 

“Adorable. So scared of everything.”

Eddie whined and shoved him away. “My god! You’re so-.”

Richie jumped in before he could finish. “Sexy? Irresistible? Charming? Magnificent? Holy?”

“Irritating!”

“Can you love birds stop bickering and help us out?” Bev snipped and the two of them looked at her, feigning innocence. Ben had to cover his mouth with his hand to stop any laughter from escaping. “What films are we thinking”

“Gremlins?”

“It’s literally August.” Eddie scoffed.

“Okay, Elf.”

“Stop suggesting christmas movies!”

“How about Star Wars?” Ben quipped and then shook his head. “No, Indiana Jones!”

“We get it, Ben. You wanna fuck Harrison Ford’s brains out.” Richie teased, winking at him and thrusting his hips in a vulgar way. Ben’s eyes widened and Beverly giggled before pulling Ben to the counter. 

“He’s teasing, babe. It’s fine. I wanna fuck him too.” Ben smiled.

“We could just bring a bunch of stuff we like and choose at the sleepover?” Eddie suggested.

Richie barked out a laugh. “That means all you’ll be bringing, Edward, is rom-coms. And that shit ain’t playing on Stan’s TV.”

“That’s not the only thing I watch, Richie!”

“Oh yeah? Name one film you have that isn’t a romantic comedy.” Eddie was about to open his mouth, but Richie raised a finger at him. “OR that involves Sandra Bullock, Julia Roberts, or Hugh Grant. Go on.” Eddie was stunned silent, and Richie smirked in triumph. 

“You’re both ridiculous. Why don’t we just watch Moulin Rouge?” 

“Mulan what?” Richie asked. 

Beverly rolled her eyes, pulling Ben to stand with his back to her so she could wrap her arms around his waist and rest her chin on his shoulder. “The Moulin Rouge, Rich. It’s a musical?”

Richie groaned over dramatically at her. “Not another fuckin’ musical-”

“I promise it won’t be like The Sound of Music.” Bev said honestly, and Eddie thought back to the time Richie had tried to jump out of Mike’s second story window after the fifth verse of ‘So Long, Farewell’. Bill and Mike had to physically drag him away as Bev and Eddie screamed at him, with Ben threatening to spray him with the hose from outside. Stan had just carried on watching TV with a smile. 

“It’s actually really good.” Ben chimed in, smiling brightly. “And Ewan McGregor has a great voice.”

“Oh his voice, it does things to me I swear.” Bev sighed, holding Ben a little tighter.

“She’s gonna call you Ewan in bed now, I bet you.” Richie said and Ben subtly flipped him off. “Oh Ewan…sing me that song again…oh fuck!” He moaned out in a high pitched voice.

“Christ, I do NOT sound like that!” Bev howled and Ben turned his head to kiss her cheek.

“And I can vouch for that.” He said and Bev bit her lip with a grin.

“Your porn star voice is getting worse.” Eddie said without looking up from where he was scanning the record shelves. As Ben and Bev were distracted by each other, Richie tip toed over to Eddie and came up behind him, resting his hands either side of his head.

“Wanna show me what it should sound like, Eds?” He whispered into his ear, and Eddie squeaked, spinning around and pressing his back into the shelves, almost knocking a David Bowie record over. Richie raised an eyebrow at him, staring into his eyes. “Oh Richie-”

“Don’t moan your own name, you sicko!” Eddie smacked his chest.

That only made Richie move closer to him. “Oh, you want me to moan yours instead?” Eddie went red. “Eddie-”

“Don’t fucking do that!” Eddie snapped, shoving Richie away this time, glaring as his friend started laughing. His brain went back to that morning, when Richie was basically dry humping him and begging him in that low, gravelly morning voice, and Eddie couldn’t look at him. He had tried to stop thinking about it all day, but he couldn’t. 

He’d never tell Richie that, though. And he definitely wouldn’t tell him he had thought about it in the shower that morning as well. God, he’d never hear the end of it. 

“Why? Is your pristine mind turning dirty?” Richie asked, crossing his arms.

“No. You’re just vile.”

“Say that again, only bite your lip afterwards, that’ll give me a good image for later when I’m jacking my-”

“Eh-hem.” Someone cleared their voice and both boys turned to see a lady with her two girls standing in the entrance to the record store, glaring at them both with hands on her hips. Eddie’s mouth dropped open and he looked away, flustered and embarrassed beyond belief. “We’d like to buy some music, if you two are quite finished.” The woman said, clearly unimpressed, and Richie gulped.

“Uh, yeah. Sure. Right this way.” Richie then hurried back to the counter, realising Bev and Ben had moved far away from it and were now giggling to each other in the corner with their bags over their shoulders. Richie took his place behind the counter and narrowed his eyes at them as they waited for Eddie to reappear.

“See you later, Richie.” Ben called as Bev dragged him out of the store, cackling with laughter once they were back out onto the pavement. Eddie left shortly after, but not before he took a quick glance over his shoulder at Richie. He didn’t know why he did it, but he was surprised to see Richie staring at him already.

“Later, gater.” He said, smiling softly, and even after the trauma Eddie had just endured, he smiled back. 

And then left the store, and ran after his two friends; desperately trying not to think about the sexual tension he had just experienced. And why he wished someone else had been there too.


End file.
